Why do people become nostalgic
The brain fires up, and there’s a hit
memory banks open wide
scenes poor out that cannot hide
days of old
colors me gold
Shining days come thru
trying to break free from blue
Those summer days on dusty roads
stopping briefly to unload
our treasure trove of sticks and rocks
never the restraint of ticking clocks
Whistful for the good old days
Funny how they didn’t stay
as I imagined so long ago
but that’s just how nostalgia goes
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